The Blood Red String of Fate
by OmashuCabbages
Summary: AU. In a normal world without magic, two people are forever tied together by an unbreakable bond. It was what kept Harry from dying all those years ago. Harry knows he has to find that person. When he gets a letter from a famous boarding school known as Hogwarts, he might just get his chance to see that person. But has their meeting caused something sinister to awaken...? (HxG)
1. Prologue

Prologue.

A dark gray morning foreshadowed a life of despair. The thick mist muffled the cries of the child destined to bear the weight of the world on his shoulders. The accident had to happen. It was unavoidable, for no one can by step the arms of death. You wouldn't think of a morning murder, however the morning was as quiet as snowflakes splotched with blood. No one would know.

The murder was simple. Laughable almost. The man twirled a knife in his bony fingers. He would be finally rid of the child, the child that threatened his very existence. He was not one for superstition, but he could not take his chances. He was almost there. Just a finger away from complete domination. He never knew that it could go so horribly wrong.

The death of the father was simple enough. A quick slash of the throat and he was put out of life. The mother however, was quite a bit tricky. She ran, screaming as her husband's body lay strewn out on the floor, blood running onto the wood. She ran for her son, shielding him with her own body. The man grinned as the knife entered her. A soundless cry and it was over. He flicked his wrist, the blood drops spattering the clean white curtains that had just been placed a few days ago. Now for the child.

A tiny boy lay in the crib, unaware of what events had taken place. The man slowly raised the knife. The prophecy would never come true now. One quick stab. It would be over instantly.

However nothing is that simple. He froze, the knife grazing the boy's forehead unevenly. Something had stopped him. A connection of some sort made him stop in his tracks. He was unable to kill the boy. Growling in frustration, he jerked his hand up. He could do it, he was just being soft. His head screamed at him. _KILL THE BOY!_

A certain sort of dizziness washed over him, as he just noticed the gruesome slash in his stomach. He lurched. _The woman! When did she…_ He gasped for air as he bled, the red stains coming over his cloak. How could he have failed the mission? How?

The man hobbled away before the police could come. He was sure something had saved the boy. Something anchored him, so that he couldn't be killed. Whatever it was he had to find it. _And then I will be back for you._ The assassin took one last glance toward the house, and fled, leaving nothing but a drop of blood behind.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Harry sighed, brushing a lock of black hair from his forehead. He sat crouched in his tiny cupboard, along with the spiders that scuttled along the dusty shelves. The early morning was nice, a rare time when his cousin Dudley didn't run around the house, breaking something every five minutes. His head rested in the crook of his arm as he thought. _I am miserable here._

He supposed others had it worse than him, but the trauma of losing his parents, hardly even remembering what they had looked like, was nothing short of devastating. And being forced to live here with his crazy relatives, well a foster home could be better than this.

The loud, booming voice of his uncle startled him out of his thoughts. The heavy footsteps sent dust raining over him, making him cough spasmodically. A heavy fist rapped on the door of his cupboard, "Get up boy!"

Harry gloomily opened the cupboard door to see his red-faced uncle, his neck thick and stumpy like a walrus. His mustache made him look even more so. Vernon Dursley was definitely not someone he wanted to see in the morning. Vernon impatiently cleared his throat, loudly mind you. "Get out of there at once and make yourself presentable," he snapped, "or do you want Dudley's birthday to be ruined?"

Harry groaned inwardly. How could he have forgotten about Dudley's birthday? It got worse every year. He moodily glared off in the distance. "Don't be sassing me," rasped Vernon, and Harry had to quickly leap up to avoid an oncoming kick from his uncle. Mission succeeded.

He stepped into the kitchen where his Aunt Petunia was frying some bacon. She spotted him and thrust the pan into his hands, some hot oil spattered on his arm and he almost dropped it. Petunia glared at him, "Don't drop that now. It is very important that it be perfect on my little Dudley's big day."

Harry rolled his eyes and set the pan on the stove. "I hope your bacon burns," he muttered sourly. He spent a few good minutes frying the bacon in peace and then setting the slices on a plate, when Dudley barged in yelling something about birthday presents. Harry had to keep himself from face palming right there.

Another normal day in the Dursley house. And another particularly gloomy day for Harry Potter.


End file.
